


What Happens in Hedonia

by Rayearthmagic



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, Body Shots, Drift (Transformers) - Freeform, Drinking, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Matchmaking, Morning After, NSFW, OC matchmakers, Overloads (Transformers), Party Ambulance, Partying, Ratchet (Transformers) - Freeform, Robot Sex, Smut, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, dratchet - Freeform, shortest courtship ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 03:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7960846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rayearthmagic/pseuds/Rayearthmagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you do when you run into your crush in a club on Hedonia?  </p><p>When the Lost Light stopped in Hedonia for supplies, Ratchet went on a solo shore leave excursion, determined to unwind and party until the sun came up.  He had counted on having a good time and good drinks on the planet he hadn't been back since his party ambulance days.  What he hadn't counted on was running into Drift.   </p><p>Was it the Engex or was Drift really giving him the eye?</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Happens in Hedonia

**Author's Note:**

> SHOUTING THANK YOU to [iopele/slimreaper](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SlimReaper/profile) for all her encouragement and help! What would I do without her? 
> 
> I'm actually working on a long story right now (another Dratchet piece), and this one just snuck in. Also what happened to my retirement plans? Wasn't I supposed to stop after one fic? LOL
> 
> Enjoy, guys!

_Oh, yeah!_   Ratchet relished gleefully as he slammed down his empty shot glass on the counter. That was the stuff. Waiting for the bartender to spot him and to top him off, the off-duty medic studied his surroundings.

The bar was bustling with activity and music. Different species could be seen mingling and laughing with one another. It was a nice sight to behold. Especially when Ratchet had seen so much war.

Although the war was over, fighting was still common between mechs of both factions. And from what he had seen before leaving Cybertron, the neutrals weren't exactly a bunch of flower-offering pacifists either.

Ratchet wasn't sure if his decision to join the Lost Light was a good one but at the moment, he sure was glad they had stopped in Hedonia for supplies. He hadn't been back here since med school.

Hedonia was a fun planet, known for its party scene and casinos, and to guarantee a memorable stay, their captain, Rodimus, had even generously gifted each of them with fifty shanix for shore leave. Not that he needed it but it was appreciated.

Soon after arriving in the bar, one of the other patrons struck up a conversation with him and even bought him a drink. She looked suspiciously human but had an ethereal glow to her that seemed to emanate from deep within. She reminded him of a certain swordsmech with her twin blades swinging from her hips. The charming creature simply introduced herself as L.

She invited Ratchet to join her group of friends, where none of them were of the same species, and the mech found that he liked that more than he'd have believed. It soothed his core coding for peacekeeping. If creatures of different species could get along, why were his people fighting themselves?

Because of that, Rodimus had been worried that the locals would not accept their “dangerous” species and had them all outfitted with holomatter. Ratchet was glad that this place didn't mind him in his true form. In fact, L had looked him over more than once with an appreciative eye.

“C’mon, mech, the bar next block down has a cuter crowd. We're hoppin’ outta here.” Ratchet let himself be pulled towards the exit by one of L’s friends with tentacle arms.

Outside, the air was crisp and it was a good break from the loud booming music. He may be old but he still appreciated the party scene from time to time. It helped him forget the harsh world he lived in, even if it was for just one night.

They reached their new venue and were swiftly admitted in by the Herculean doorman. He glanced at Ratchet’s medic sigil and ushered him in. The Engex he had consumed earlier warmed his tank pleasantly. Tonight was shaping up to be a good night, and if he were really lucky, he might even manage to forget his lack of a love life and just enjoy the moment.

Ratchet stopped just inside the large hall and took in the scene, while his group made their way towards their friends at a table adjacent to the bar. Electronic music thumped loudly and most of the patrons were either happily dancing away or laughing with their entourage. Couples could be glimpsed in less illuminated areas by the side walls engaged in more private activities.

L’s upper half stuck up above the crowd and waved at him from across the room, inviting him to join them, and Ratchet was quick to comply. He wasn’t sure if she had levitated a few feet above the ground or if she stood on a chair, but by the time he got there she was already sitting down on the couch beside a blue furry fellow. Introductions were made and rounds of drinks were bought.

Ratchet was swaying to the music with L, drink in hand, and having an absolute great time. He was amused when their tentacled friend got flustered by a pretty lithe creature who began flirting with him. His enigmatic companion informed him that these two had been dancing around each other for months. Tentacles never believed that such a beautiful being would ever be interested in him. And L hoped that with all the clear signals Pretty was sending him tonight, he would finally make his move.

The signs were glaringly obvious, even to Ratchet. If Tentacles didn’t notice them, he needed to get his eyes checked.

Flashes of white and red plating glinting from the entrance drew the medic’s attention. His spark skipped a beat when he recognized the mech standing there.

Drift.

Damn, what was he doing here? And had he visited the oil baths? Because he was positively gleaming. The strobe lights scintillated favorably off those sinfully attractive thighs. Ratchet must have been staring because L asked him if the speedster was his type.

“What? Don’t be ridiculous! That’s my crewmate.” Blushing, he looked away for a moment and took another sip from his glass.

The look she gave him suggested that she didn’t believe him, and before he could stop her, she waved at the swordsmech.

Ratchet’s receptors registered the EM field surrounding her as she lifted herself a few feet in the air to make her movements obvious to Drift. Curious but having no opportunity to ask her about her strange power, Ratchet found himself the recipient of the gorgeous speedster’s signature bright smile as he lithely made his way towards them.

L arched a brow and admired the approaching mech openly.

Drift’s round hips swayed mesmerizingly as he walked, movements laced with predatory grace as he effortlessly cut through the sea of partygoers. There had always been something special about the younger mech that attracted Ratchet. Everytime he looked at the swordsmech, he saw something new in him. Drift shone like a prism, revealing only certain facets at a time. Right now, there was a hint of intent behind those blue optics that made Ratchet's spark skip a beat. But then again, it could just be the drinks talking.

“Mm, I can see why you like him.” L murmured lowly enough for Ratchet hear. If he could look away from the beautiful mech, he would have seen the crafty light in her eyes.

Denial queued up in his vocalizer but were deleted when Drift broke through the crowd and stood before them. He looked even better up close. The wax really accented his sleek features and even lent him a crisp clean scent.

Forcing his movements to be as natural as possible, Ratchet offered him a drink from his bottle of Engex, which he regrettably declined. When the medic couldn’t bring his processor to suggest an alternative beverage, L swooped in and offered to buy him midgrade.

The rest of the night flowed exceptionally well. The group integrated the swordsmech with a raucous cheer and tossed back more drinks. A well-known dance song played, and Ratchet found himself pulled out to the dancefloor by an enthusiastic Drift. Small hands also pushed him in the dorsal plates, and he turned around in time to see L giving him thumbs-up.

The crowd parted for them. The invigorating music soaked into his old struts, bringing them to life. Ratchet stood stiffly for a few seconds before finally bouncing to the lively tune. Drift looked really good in the dim flashing lights. He moved sinuously, hips swinging seductively. What Ratchet wouldn’t do to touch him! He watched spellbound as those sleek polished curves flitted in time with the beat. In a spur of impulse, or of high-grade influence, Ratchet took Drift’s hand and spun him smoothly in an inside turn.

Heh, what do you know. Ratchet still had some moves.

Drift laughed, and when he had rotated back to face Ratchet, he placed his free hand on the medic’s strong shoulder. Hesitating for half a second, Ratchet set his other hand at the speedster’s trim waist in a classical dance position.

The music transitioned to something that resembled Earth’s upbeat island acoustics, and Ratchet pulled Drift tightly against him and led him in an easy dance sequence that required a lot of hip shaking.

And slag, did Drift shake it! Sashaying and quick stepping expertly to the bubbly song, all the while never looking away from the medic’s optics and smiling at him coyly.

Ratchet was heating up, and not just from the exercise. Those divine curves bumping and sliding against him were sending all sorts of frenzied signals to his overactive array (and imagination). Good thing the song ended when it did, because his panel was a few seconds from popping open.

They made their way back to their group, with Drift still holding onto his hand. Blue-and-furry had ordered jelly shots and was slurping one up from a giggling L’s midriff.

Now that looked fun.

Finished, Blue gestured for Drift to come closer and eyed Ratchet meaningfully. No. Nononono! Ratchet was not eating jelly off of Drift’s very attractive abdominal stripes. Nuh-uh! No way.

“Yolo,” someone said with a hollow voice. It must have been that wooden organic that was hanging out with Blue when they joined them. He appeared a few feet beside him, almost startling the medic. Or maybe he had been here this whole time? Wood just naturally blended into the scenery.

L winked at him and said something that Ratchet’s audials couldn’t pick up in the club’s cacophony. By reading her lips, he deduced she said something along the lines of “What happens in Hedonia stays in Hedonia.”

Drift was smoothly half-leaning back against the bar when Blue deposited the pink jelly on his delectable middle.

Swallowing thickly, Ratchet made his way forward. Upon seeing him, Drift sat up, surprise and awe flaring in his field. He must have thought Blue was doing the shot. The motion rolled the jelly down to his thigh, and when Drift reached for it, Blue stopped his hand and pointed to Ratchet then the jelly.

Hedonia, right?

Ratchet sank to his knees and gave Drift his most flirtatious smirk before leaning down to nibble at the jiggly confection. His hands grasped Drift’s ankles and caressed the smooth plating up his legs, discovering that he really liked the shape of them. Moving higher, he found sensitive bundles of wires behind his knees joints and kept going until his hands came to rest at his hips.

Drift tensed up beneath him, but his field was heavy with eagerness and… desire? Maybe it was his imagination, but the medic took his time to lap up the jelly treat anyway, making sure that his armor was clean. He couldn’t very well leave sticky residue on the speedster’s frame, right?

The pretty mech was trembling by the time a melted drop of coolant escaped Ratchet’s questing glossa. It fell into a seam, and he chased after it with clever flicks, his chevron bumping against Drift’s surprisingly very warm pelvis. Damn, was Drift getting as turned on as Ratchet was? Blue howled victoriously behind him, and Ratchet gazed up into a very rosy-cheeked speedster’s face.

Grinning, he let Drift pull him to his feet and accepted the shot that Wood gave him. Beside them, the group took turns in eating up the tray of jelly shots. Blue bellowed riotously again over the thumping music, but Ratchet’s lines were buzzing pleasantly and he couldn't keep his optics off the beautiful speedster who had yet to let go of his hand.

Frag, he was gorgeous. His battle-worn hand was warm in Ratchet’s, and the flush that stained his cheeks was too cute to resist.

Pulling Drift closer, he pressed his nose to his side vent and cycled some air in. Damn, he smelled so good. His hand twitched on that striped waist, itching to glide lower, to explore those sleek curves. And when Drift pressed his entire warm length against him with a sigh, Ratchet needed no further encouragement and guided him into the darkened corner behind their table.

He wanted a taste. Just one and then he'd be done.

 

* * *

 

Ratchet onlined his optics one retinal receptor at a time. His helm was pounding but he caught glimpses of familiar furniture. When and how did he get back to his habsuite on the ship?

His HUD listed packets of data queued for his inspection. Ugh, that would have to wait. He performed a system scan first. Aside from being low on coolant and the pounding processor ache, the medic was fine. But he really shouldn’t have drank that much last night.

He tried to get up for some painkiller but discovered that he was pinned to the berth by an arm and a leg that hooked around him like he was a body pillow. Turning his head to the side, he found Drift’s sleeping face inches beside him. What in the slagging Pit? Questioning the how and why would have to come later because panic set in as he watched the speedster begin to stir.

What the frag happened last night?

Drift onlined his pretty optics and smiled sweetly, curling up closer. "Good morning!" He pressed a kiss to his lips.

Ratchet stuttered a good morning back and noticed Drift looking down at his dark hand.  
On his ring finger was a band. Where did he get that?

"Yeah, it's funny right? The locals were insistent on it. But now that I look at it, I kinda like it." The pretty speedster turned his hand this way and that, catching the light on the metal.

Ratchet swallowed and searched his memory. Patches of it came back to him. The drinks, the bar, the dancing, the kissing, Ratchet confessing his love, the chapel.... The locals finding a ring for Ratchet for the ceremony.

He looked down at his own hand and beheld a similar ring on one of his fingers.

He couldn't speak.

The data packets pinged again. Ratchet opened them frantically, and last night’s events came back clearer to him.

 

* * *

 

Ratchet had Drift pinned against the wall in the back of the club. Nuzzling that elegant neck, he kissed his way up to the gorgeous mech’s mouth. He pressed his lips against his gently, enjoying the tingling sensations where they touched. Slowly, he nibbled the supple lip, but lust and hunger flared in him. Groaning, he slanted his helm and claimed the delectable mouth with his.

Drift was like a dream in his arms, moaning against his lips and melting so sweetly against him. That sound had to be sexiest thing he’d ever heard in his entire functioning. Never had he ever imagined that kissing Drift would be so electric, so heady. He felt delirious from the speedster’s rich flavor. It was even better than his favorite high grade.

Ratchet’s hands traveled lower, finally cupping that luscious aft, fingers kneading the curves. In the back of his processor, he knew he really should stop now. After all, they were only playing. There was no way the Lost Light’s Third in Command was interested in an old wreck like Ratchet. He shouldn't let this get too serious or someone was going to get hurt.

Panting and blushing, Ratchet was grateful for the darkness of the corner that concealed his disheveled state. That Engex was stronger than it looked but damn he was happy to be here.

Pulling away, he was pleasantly surprised that Drift followed his mouth. He started to pull the speedster back towards their group but Drift yanked him back with a growl, spinning Ratchet to pin him against the wall this time. Warm hands traveled all over his armor and lips kissed him hungrily on the mouth.

Ratchet felt dizzy and drunk in a way that had nothing to do with high grade. Ok, maybe a little. How many drinks had he had so far? It didn’t matter. The swordsmech’s kisses were melting his struts and he couldn't get enough of them. His ambulance engine revved loudly as he let himself be seduced by the gorgeous mech in his arms. He had never questioned how much he wanted Drift because it was a pointless topic, but Ratchet never would have guessed that he would be ready to pop his panel at the first kiss.

And from the way that Drift was panting as he kissed a heated trail down his neck, he was as affected as Ratchet. Slagging pit, that leg sliding up his thigh almost had him dragging the beautiful speedster to the floor and fragging his brain module out. And those moans! They were chipping away the last of his restraints.

Maybe it was the high grade or the way Drift pressed his sleek curvy frame irresistibly against him, but his most secret wish came floating out of his vocalizer before he thought the better of it. “You have no idea how long I’ve loved you. I'd ask you to marry me right fragging now if I thought there was any chance you'd say yes."

Drift straightened before him, optics wide. “Are you asking me?”

“Are you gonna say yes?”

That smirk would be forever imprinted in his memory. “Oh hell, yeah.” Drift pulled him in tighter and sealed the promise with a kiss. His field flared out with eagerness, love, desire, and PLEASE.

Ratchet felt his knees about to buckle. Drift said yes. Had his dreams just come true?

Drift licked along his jaw to his audial and growled, "Babe, I’m gonna give you such a wedding night." And kissed him again, so passionately and so sexily that Ratchet was sure his spark would burst out of his chest.

Dazedly, he let Drift drag him over to the locals and announce the news to them. "Where can we get married right now on this planet?"

He’d be damned if L and Tentacles didn’t squeal loud enough that the next solar system heard them. Blue whooped and ordered another round of drinks for everyone. More shooters were delivered to their table, compliments of the multi-armed bartender.

They left the club but were split up. Feeling bereft, Ratchet wanted to follow his newly-betrothed but Drift turned around and gave him a saucy wink before being led away by Wood and Blue. Tentacles pulled him close and told him they needed to choose each other’s wedding bands separately. As it was tradition.

It reminded Ratchet of the customs on Earth and he agreed to follow protocol.

They met up later at a garishly neon-lit chapel, the ring securely tucked away in Ratchet’s subspace. Although he was sure Drift would like the simple design he had chosen, he was positive that he'd be even more ecstatic once he read the inscription Ratchet had engraved inside with his laser scalpel.

Drift’s group had already arrived and were waiting for him at the podium. He beamed Ratchet a smile when he spotted him, his entire face lighting up. Frag, he was gorgeous.

He wanted to charge right up there and be wed as soon as possible, but L held him back, pulling his arm with surprising strength to slow him down into a wedding march. Tentacles took pictures with his comlink device and his pretty partner looked a bit teary-eyed beside him.

Up ahead, Drift’s optics glinted, shutters clicking away behind the lens. He was taking image captures of Ratchet walking towards him. Maybe he should to do the same. This was a night to remember after all.

 

* * *

 

“Oh slag, it wasn't a dream?”

The warmth and happiness draining out of Drift’s expressive face and field was like a slap, spurring Ratchet into quick action.

“No! No, Drift. I’m not regretting what happened last night.” He pulled him tightly against his windshield. “I only thought it was a dream because how could anything this good be real? And happening to me?” He pressed a timid kiss to Drift’s crest. “I… just can’t believe you’d want an old wreck like me for a conjunx.”

Drift didn’t say anything but his field unfurled back out from under his plating, soft and welcoming.

“My only regret is not remembering everything clearly.” Ratchet was ashamed that he had no recollection of their first time together. How could such an important memory file be missing? He finally got to frag the mech of his dreams and couldn’t remember any of it. Wasn’t that just wonderful?

As if reading his mind, Drift smiled and stretched that long lean frame all up against him and purred, “You must not remember much of our wedding night... That’s all right, love. I’ll just have to blow your circuits again.”

How could simple words from Drift get him instantly revved up? His plating was suddenly sensitive to Drift’s caresses as he arched into his touch, gasping when his panel was already on the verge of popping open.

And that smug smirk as Drift leaned in for a kiss sent thrilling shivers up his spinal strut. What had they done last night that put such a knowing smile on him?

Drift’s lips tasted just as good as last night, soft and firm against his. Try as he may, he couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up from his vocalizer.

“I love the sounds you make, babe,” he murmured against Ratchet’s mouth.

A hand came up to cup his cheek and Drift slanted his helm to deepen the kiss. Ratchet's hands found purchase on that slim waist as Drift shifted on top of him without breaking the kiss. The slick glossa was driving him to distraction but nothing compared to feeling Drift rub his bared array against his thigh. Heat gathered between his legs, node throbbing in time with the beating of his spark. Surrendering to the wonderful sensations, Ratchet’s panel slid aside without a fuss. His spike pressurizing between them was such a relief.

“Mmm, I had my mouth everywhere last night,” Drift breathed beside his audial, hand traveling down his chest to skim around Ratchet’s spike. “It tasted even better than I imagined, especially in overload.”

Calipers clenching had Ratchet squirming beneath his pretty speedster. Damn, when had he ever been this revved up? His valve was already so wet.

Drift kissed a hot trail from his neck down to his chest, lingering at the windshield’s underseam, glossa seeking out hidden sensory bundles.

Whimpering, Ratchet grasped the berth sheets tightly as Drift travelled lower still, hand steadily teasing his spike with light touches, not quite gripping him firmly as the medic desperately wanted.

He struggled to keep ventilating by the time Drift made it to his spike. His fingers had delved lower, maddeningly circling the rim to his valve. When no further touch was forthcoming, he ventured a glance at Drift and found himself pinned by a hungry predatory look.

He smiled at Ratchet, complete with fangs, before lowering to swirl a wet glossa on the tip of his spike. The sharp dentae shouldn't excite him this way, but it did. The possible danger of the pointed tips skimming over his spike thrilled him acutely. He tried to muffled the tremulous groans with his hand but lost the battle and settled to gripping the plush bedding instead. Drift’s mouth was warm and slick and so talented, sucking on him with such perfect pressure that Ratchet saw stars.

The questing fingers dipped into his valve teasingly and glided up to spread lubricant on his aching node. Ratchet dug his heels into the berth with a gasp. Damn, he was close.

Charge zinged under his armor, glowing between the transformation seams. He tensed, frame taut with pent-up energy, ready for release. Drift pushed two fingers in and Ratchet overloaded arching off the berth. He might have tried to cry out Drift’s name but he wasn't sure if it was intelligible. Pleasure stripped him of all higher functions, leaving him helpless to do nothing but feel it pulse deliciously through his lines.

Drift gently sucked off the last of the transfluid while sliding his fingers in and out slowly, thumb brushing against his node again and again.

As impossible as it sounded, Ratchet found himself still revved up and wanting more. When he regained control over his hands again, he tugged at the speedster's shoulder and curled a leg up the back of those flashy thighs.

Drift needed no further encouragement and crawled back up to kiss Ratchet on the lips, looking ever so pleased.

Feeling his hard length pressed against his thigh had the medic’s valve rippling eagerly. “Need you,” Ratchet managed to say over the static in his vocalizer.

The head of Drift’s spike finally pushed in past the first ring, coaxing his calipers to open. Ratchet threw his head back, moaning long and low, and gripped that stripped waist tightly. Frag, when had a spike ever felt this good? It stretched him perfectly, as if Drift had been made for him.

Above him, Drift hissed, “Oh yeeeaaahhh…”

He kissed him tenderly on the lips before starting to move. He set a slow pace of long strokes, dragging the ridges of his spike over each ring of grasping calipers.

Whimpering, Ratchet just grabbed onto anything his flailing hands came across. It felt so good. He shook uncontrollably each time Drift was fully hilted and the head of that perfect spike rubbed against his ceiling node. He felt the charge climb quickly, already out of control. He was going mad with sensations when the speedster clasped his wrist and guided his hand to stroke his own spike. By the Allspark, did Drift know about medic hands?

Glancing at the hungry look on Drift’s coolant-streaked face, the older mech was pretty sure he did. He was eating it up, thoroughly enjoying watching Ratchet’s pleasure.

Charge danced from his spike to his sensitive hands, seeping into the fine spaces between delicate plating. Moaning and trembling, Ratchet knew he wasn't going to last much longer, especially with Drift spiking him so wonderfully. And the fullness! He wanted to stay stretched like this forever.

The gorgeous mech nuzzled his neck cables, murmuring to him. "Mmm, babe, you feel so good around me, so hot. Do you remember last night when I got to taste this sweet little valve?” He licked along his audial. “Remember me telling you how long I've wanted to do that? And how much I love having my glossa inside you? Hrmm, just talking about it makes me want to go down on you again, but only after you’ve overloaded for me.”

Ratchet could swear his valve remembered even if his memory file was missing. It tightened eagerly around Drift, as if to hold him there forever. His hand had a mind of its own as he stroked his throbbing spike sublimely. It was so good, he wanted it to go on and on, suspended in ecstasy.  

Drift slid a finger between them and found his anterior node, exerting just the right amount of pressure. “Ratchet, overload for me.”

How could he resist?  Especially with a voice that dripped with sex like that.  Overload burst through him with enough force to white out his optics. His calipers rippled around the hard spike while he cried out Drift’s name, blindly grasping him as he rode the frenzied rapture. The waves of pleasure seemed to go on forever pulsing all the way to his fingertips. Grunting, Drift tipped over the edge after a few more strokes, holding himself deep within Ratchet.  He thrusted a few more times and collapsed on top of him, gasping for air.

Frag, had anything ever felt this good?

Drift’s field was a warm and comfortable cocoon surrounding Ratchet. Who would have known that Drift would end up as his lover? No. He was much more than that now. As much as he wanted to just lie here and caress the purring speedster’s dorsal plates, he needed to hear some things said out loud.

“Drift, did we really take the rites?” His spark shook with nervous energy within his chest.

“We did.” Drift blew out a contented sigh beside his helm, thumb drawing lazy circles on Ratchet’s pauldron.

“You’re not going to regret this? We were pretty drunk last night when it happened.” Worry began to seep into the older mech’s lines, washing away the pleasant afterglow.

Drift rose onto his elbows and gave him a look of such tender affection that Ratchet could do nothing but stare at him with muted awe. He'd never imagined seeing such emotions in the speedster's optics, and certainly not directed at him. “I’ve loved you since forever. There’s no way I’d regret this.”

Ratchet accepted the warm kiss and cuddled him tightly to his chest, spark swelling with elation. This was insane. Had all his dreams come true after a night of debauchery?

“Besides, I wasn’t drunk at all. I had nothing but midgrade all night.”

Sweet Vector Sigma, Drift chose him of his own free will and while sober? What did he do to deserve such luck? Such happiness?

Their next kiss quickly heated up, hands roaming feverishly over sensitized plating. Drift hardened inside Ratchet. Slag, was this how his life was going to be from now on? Making love until they made love again?

Pounding on the door broke the spell faster than having a bucket of cold solvent dumped on them.

“Ratchet! Drift! Are you in there? Are you together? What’s going on?” It was Rodimus. Despite the frantic knocking, he sounded more curious than concerned. “You’ve received packages that look suspiciously like wedding gifts.” More pounding. "Who are these people sending you all this stuff?"

The ferocious look that Drift gave the door could have melted it and the meddlesome captain on the other side. Ratchet found that he really liked the low menacing growl he emitted that was so contrary with his virtuous knight image. His valve contracted in agreement. He’d like to explore this side to Drift more, but right now they had to deal with the nosy best friend.

“C’mon, my dear conjunx. Let’s see how fast we can get rid of the captain. I want to get to know you even better.”

“Actually, we're sparkmates, Ratchet.” Drift dropped a peck on his cheek and went to the door, pausing to send him a flirty wink while he just stood there like a statue, too stunned to form a reply.

Oh, dear Cybertron… Hedonia was known for its party scene and casinos. And it looked like Ratchet won the jackpot.


End file.
